Everything in Nothing
by bickeringgibberish
Summary: You can not give what you don't have. [NatsuMikan] [ONESHOT]


**Everything in Nothing**

**Author's note: **It is a free day for me and so I am writing—no I have written a one-shot for you guys. Of course, I'll say enjoy this fiction and hope that you would. Forgive me for the typographical errors you would encounter once you start scrolling down and please bear with it.

**Warning: **Characters may be OOC.

**xxx**

You can never give something if you have nothing.

Nothing.

It is his birthday—Natsume's. And she had been strolling around the Central Town, breaths coming out in moist wisps, small hands rubbing her own arms, preventing the chills from seeping through her cloak to drive into her bones. She grumbled inconsequential things as her amber eyes flickered from one glass pane to another—searching for the right gift.

With only a few yen to spare.

She honestly tried borrowing money from Hotaru, but all she did was to just glare at her, remind her about her unending list of debts and shoo her off. Bugger.

She didn't try to borrow from anyone else, hell, she still has dignity and she might as well as keep what remained.

She released a sigh; she pulled her cloak's sleeves back, glanced at the hands of her watch and released another sigh. She had been in Town for three hours. Three _freaking _hours. Three freaking _wasted _hours. A miniscule frown appeared on her face as the wind gusted through, hitting her straight to the bones, sending her auburn locks whipping everywhere. She let out another frustrated sigh as she shoved her hair off her face. "God damn it."

She actually did not want to give him anything (though etiquette dictates that one should give a person a gift when it is his birthday) but she had been thoroughly infuriated about his scoff the other day, "What, you're going to give me one of those Nullification Stones of yours that is of no use? Really Polka, rub two neurons together and find a decent gift for me. We've graduated. I highly doubt that I'll still need you."

The moment his last words left his mouth, she had been petrified, aghast and she felt an organ sink deep inside of her. She assumed it was her heart, for it had been hanging loosely, ready to fall.

And it fell.

Not because of love but because of that violent thug he did. He did it with nonchalance. Without any care. Without even a slight concern about her feelings or reactions.

He didn't need her—he didn't need her anymore.

And she honestly felt like she was nothing anymore.

**xxx**

He lives in a different world now. Lives in a high end place, enjoys the comfort of his new circle of friends, works for a man who is powerful like the others, earns a decent amount of money capable of buying her a new car every day, lives in a new world where she can no longer reach him.

Or even touch him.

Before he took the job in that large Advertising Company he would hang around with them—her, most of the time; just like the days when they were still in the Academy. Mikan loved him at that time, with his secret smiles and the sparkle in his eyes, when he falls asleep beside her on the couch with barely an inch to move, when he cooks a decent meal enough to feed her neighbors—when he was still him.

Everyone loved Natsume when he was him before. But everyone loved him more when he was accepted as an Assistant Manager in the Marketing division of the company. Who wouldn't anyway? He was mysterious enough to attract anyone; he was smart, an intellectual being capable of arguing and debating without losing; he is talented, imaginative, his mind going in circles in planning; he was handsome, the bad-boy look and those crimson eyes were able to catch anyone's heart. He became The Hyuuga Natsume.

Mikan hated the new him, despised his arrogance, and rejected his new approach. The new Natsume ate the old one. The one she loved and he changed—changed so well that she didn't recognize him. Gone was his smile, gone was his laugh, gone was his attitude towards her. He was gone. And it broke her heart.

He still talked to her, still hung out with her, still called her once in a week to update her on his life; but there was a distance in between them that she felt. He was so far away, he was walking away from her and there she was, standing, unable to move.

And then he dated numerous women Mikan didn't like. Sumire would update her almost every single day as if it was the most productive thing to do ever. She would smile, nod at proper times, but inside she had been willing to kill each of those women; uncaring if they are daughters of investors or politicians. It made her blood boil. And it made her heart explode.

Sumire was the one who noticed the change in behavior of Mikan whenever Natsume is around or when he is the topic. Of course, being the nosy friend she is, she asked Mikan.

"What?" she screamed at Sumire. Sumire just kept her eyes fixated on hers, unmoving, clearly determined. "Did you just imply that I have—have _romantic_ feelings for him?"

"Come on, Mikan. I am not that stupid—I can easily read you!"

"Look Sumire," she started, "I really appreciate you looking out for me but making that silly little—"

"This isn't silly. This is about you and your feelings. Couldn't you just be honest to yourself and accept the fact that you love him?"

"Everyone loves him."

"Not the way you do."

"Must you insist on this?" she exclaimed, "God, it's so annoying that you took up Psychology! Don't go psychoanalyzing people just because you want to! Sometimes people just behave this way and it really does not have any reason at all."

"Then I may resort into concluding that you are neurotic."

"Which is highly preposterous." Mikan interjected. She was beginning to get annoyed with Sumire and the urge of throwing a sharp object was really tempting.

Sumire seemed not be unfazed, "Keep on denying Mikan, you can tell me you know."

"Stop projecting your own feelings towards me!" She shrieked. Sumire rolled her eyes, "Really, I've been over that—for fifteen years. Grow up."

Mikan did not answer. She was far too tired to defend herself, her own confused feelings.

"If you want to talk about it—you talk to me." Sumire then squeezed her small hands and left her alone.

**xxx**

She honestly did not want to talk about it, and so she avoided the topic. She was still confused at that time. At first she thought it was loneliness, neglect or abandonment. She thought that it was just a passing feeling. That she was just adjusting to his new self, but soon the calls stopped, moments were gone, his eyes, his smiles, his laughs and his touches were gone—and she was left alone.

And he was in his own world.

He was suddenly out of reach, near yet far. Tangible but intangible. There but not there. He grew away, he put some distance. He was scathing in his words, his tone measured, he lived in a different world—where she is not a part.

"Polka?"

She turned, her own feet wobbling before she found balance. She searched the area with her wide eyes, looking for a sign of him. But he wasn't there. It was a figment of her imagination. It wasn't him and it never was.

"Polka."

It came so sweet, just like how he says it before. It wasn't her name but it felt like it was. It tugged a heartstring and she felt her heart fall.

Not because of hurt,

But because it was him after all.

She felt her shoulder hurt, and she was jerked backward, a strong grip around her waist steadied her amidst the ongoing crowd. Her heart fluttered against her chest, a smile was brought to her lips, "Na—"

"Really Mikan, couldn't you be more careful?" it was a reproachful tone coming from her right, she turned and met the same color of her eyes. "Koko." She breathed out, "I—"

"—should be more careful." He nodded, turning her around to face him, "Jeez, don't you own a scarf? It's freezing."

"No it's not." She argued stubbornly. "I am fine. I was just not paying attention."

"Obviously. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"It's my break." She explained. Koko chuckled and offered his arm, Mikan took it with a giggle and they set forth. "I'm looking for a gift."

Koko stared at her incredulously, "Really? Well, for a second I thought you were out on a date and I thought you'll give him your alice stone—again."

Mikan rolled her eyes, "It's about time that I find something else—even though my wallet is complaining."

Koko guffawed and squeezed her linked arm, "really, Natsume doesn't care about the gifts as long as it came from your heart."

Mikan shook her head, "you don't know what he said."

"You know he's cruel, but I doubt that he means that." He adds uncertainly.

They passed several more stores, all inviting them in to browse, buy or shop. Scarves and Coats were on display—but they didn't fit the bill. Blame Natsume's fire alice. She turned to Koko and asked,

"What can you give a man who has everything?"

He could only shrug in reply.

**xxx**

Buzzing filled the hall as glasses of champagne after champagne were served; little pastries gorged over; dainty laughs and booming guffaws echoed throughout. The live band was currently serenading each soul, all in bliss as the night grew. It was only eleven o' clock and yet the crowd was lively, jeering, conversing about the most insignificant things. Natsume, dressed in his best suit, messy hair tamed just a bit, crimson eyes as bright as ever, his smile dazzling as he greeted each of his guest and thanked them.

He scanned the crowd, eyes searching for auburn locks, ears for a tinkling laugh, nose searching for a faint strawberry scent. She was not there yet. He wondered where she could be, wondered if she even got the invitation he sent, wondered if she is going to come at all. The last thought made his heart sink. Surely she would come; she never missed a birthday of his.

He saw a mop of unruly blonde hair and was thankful that it belonged to Ruka, at last, a real person he wants to talk to.

"Ruka, there you are. How long have you been here?" he pulled him into a bear hug which Ruka reciprocated with a beam.

"Been here for fifteen minutes, sifting through the crowd to get a hold of you. Happy birthday!" he pulled out a box from his pocket and grinned at him.

He gave a grin back and put the gift into his pocket, "I'll open that later. Where's Imai? The others?"

"Haven't seen them. And, oh—" Ruka dug into his inside pocket and handed him an unusual sized, white envelope. "That's from Mikan."

"What's this?" Natsume asked with a frown, a furrow instantly appeared in between his dark brows as he looked at Ruka with uncertainty. He said it was a gift from Mikan. If the gift is here, surely the giver is here too. "And Polka?"

His blonde companion shrugged his shoulders and nodded towards the entrance of the hall, "…said she has to leave, she only came here to give your gift," he nodded at the envelope in his hands.

Natsume's crimson eyes narrowed as he felt through the slim envelope. A cheque probably? A gift certificate? Talk about being cheap and predictable. "-stupid, she should've just handed this to me. The idiot didn't even have the shame to greet me."

Ruka's azure eyes met his, "She's meeting Kaname today. That's what she told me."

He felt his heart clench at the same time his hand pinched the envelope—not caring about the gift. "She put him in priority first?" he snarled, "that little—" he made a grab for his phone and started to punch her number.

"Really Natsume," Ruka scolded, "you should not be worrying about her—"

"_Worrying_? I am going to get the facts straight and ask her why she prioritized that supposedly dead vegetable—"

Ruka uneasily eyed the surroundings, saw small ripples through the air and the worried expressions of Natsume's guests, and made a mental note to ask Hotaru to create a neutralizing machine. He pulled at his necktie and wearily glanced at Natsume who seemed oblivious to his own little outburst. He was muttering expletives under his breath, clearly pissed off at Mikan's actions. Ruka reached for his phone, Natsume jerked his hand away and opted to give him a warning glare.

"The fucking woman won't answer her frigging phone. Give me your phone Ruka."

Ruka frowned at him and tried to find the logic, "What the hell for?"

"Just give it." He hissed venomously. Ruka decided not to argue and handed his phone.

**xxx**

He had been calling—calling and calling and she ignored him. Why is he calling now anyways? Surely he is preoccupied with his grand party. Couldn't he just leave her be? Mikan stared at her phone disdainfully before looking at her own reflection. She met her eyes and she saw the real her: the moping Mikan. Shouldn't she just move on like everyone else and accept the new him? Shouldn't she be happy and learn to live her life and leave him alone? Her usually bright amber eyes were dull and almost lifeless, her hair was a mess, and she had been losing weight. She is beginning to become different.

Damn that promotion.

Once again the accursed phone started to ring. If it was him again she decided to chuck it into the waste bin, but if it wasn't then she'd answer.

Ruka.

Dread coursed through her veins as she thought of the reasons why he'd call. Could it be that something happened? Is that why Natsume had been calling too? Is Hotaru alright? Was— "Ruka?" she said breathlessly, "is there something wrong? Are you—"

"He's fine," a growl from the end of the line. She did not need to be a genius to recognize his voice. Instantly she froze and met her reflection's eyes. She held the same expression, with her mouth gaping and her eyes as round as saucers. She felt her mouth go dry as she held on the sink for support.

"Oi."

She licked her dry lips and averted her gaze from the mirror; she found the doorknob and decided that it didn't match the wood of the door. The management—"Polka, one. If you don't speak—"

She shut her own phone.

"Mikan?"

She turned to the door and took a deep breath, "Coming!"

**xxx**

She exhaustedly threw herself down on her single bed and released a loud sigh. The day had been tiring, with insistent calls coming from Hotaru, Natsume, Aoi, Ruka and the others while she tried to enjoy Kaname's company (which had been really enjoying), it certainly was tiring. She sent a message to Hotaru saying that she wants to be left alone and she is busy. After that no one called. She was thankful to have a few minutes of peace. Until her phone started to ring once more. She resorted throwing it into the bin as originally planned, without caring who called.

The comfort of her bed was about to lull her into sleep when her doorbell rang. She released a groan of annoyance as she covered her ears with her pillow. The doorbell continued to ring, it was unending. Why couldn't people just leave her alone? She buried her face deeper into the mattress and tried to drown the sound, finally it stopped.

Followed by continuous knocks on her door. Mikan sat up and threw her hands up, she kicked her sheets off and made her way to the door, uncaring if she looked like hell, she was willing to give that person behind her door a piece of her mind.

**xxx**

Natsume stood out of her door all in his suited glory. She must admit that he was still breathtaking even though he looked haggard and wasted. His tie was undone, his hair messier than ever, the only feature that did not change was his determined crimson eyes, narrowed into slits in a reason she does not know and would not want to find out.

She slapped her hand on her face and fought the urge to punch him. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in your party?" he scowled at her and pushed his way inside.

"You hung up on me, you crazy bitch! I was calling and calling and you hung up?"

Mikan rolled her eyes, "I was with someone."

"Oh, yeah, Kaname. How could I forget?"

"Please do not speak ill of him inside my own home." She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.

Natsume raised a skeptical brow as she said home. This dinghy place is a home? This cramped up— "and don't you dare insult my own home."

"Why did you not come to my party? And what is this bullshit of a gift?" he held the piece of paper in front of her face.

Bullshit of a gift? Mikan thought hard in giving him that gift and that is what he said about it. "Bullshit of a gift? Really, you have the nerve to barge into my house, demand the reason why I did not come to your party, scream at me that I gave you a bullshit gift and you don't know why I did not come? Did it cross in your mind that maybe it is about your sodding attitude you arrogant jerk?"

"You don't have the right to get angry. In the first place you provoked me—"

"Provoked you because I wrote a poem which came from my heart?"

"This came from your heart? I preferably asked you to rub two neurons together and find a decent gift and this is what I get? You even stood me up! I sent you an invite and you had the gall to prioritize that sickly-"

Mikan burst, "don't you dare talk to him that way! Really, you should just be thankful that I gave you something—and besides, I don't belong there. You threw a grand party and you want me to fit? You want me to conform in a place I do not want to? You must be out of your mind! I'd rather be with someone who wants me to be who I am, than go to that party of yours full or hypocrites and fakes!"

"I am not asking you to change! I am not asking you to conform! I only asked you to come, to at least be there and celebrate my birthday!"

"And since when was my presence important? Hell, you threw countless of parties without me in the picture, why are you bothered now?"

"It is my birthday! Don't you get it? Everyone is supposed to be there!" he fired at her.

"One person does not make a difference!" she fired back.

"It does you idiot! Every person counts!"

"Why? Tables aren't filled? Champagne was too much?" she asked sarcastically, "Really, go back to that party of yours or whatever, leave me the hell alone, you've ruined my day—my week actually and I really would not want you to ruin even my sleep!"

"I am not yet done, Sakura Mikan! And you'd better listen!" he snarled.

"Can we just talk about this in the morning? Really! I am tired and if you're just here because of that stupid reason I'd rather go to bed and not wake up than listen to your tantrums!"

He clenched his fists and jaw before releasing an impatient sigh. "Fine, we'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Good," she said, she reached for his arm and tugged him towards the door, "what? Aren't you going to go home?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and jerked his arm away, "I'll stay here. Let's get some slee— " he dragged her towards the bed.

"No!" she pried his hands off, "I am going to sleep there, you sleep on the couch—"

"We had an arrangement be—"

"I want to sleep alone, thank you very much. I don't want to be near you at all. If you want to stay here, take the couch, use what I have, and not complain about having a sore neck because you insisted sleeping here." She marched off towards her bed and snuggled into the warmth of her blanket. Ignoring his curses and complains.

**xxx**

Natsume shifted uncomfortably, finding the right position in her cramped couch which was too small for him. He glared at the ceiling and glared at her sleeping figure. She seemed to be beat for she did growl at the racket he is making. He shifted again and waited for a glare or even a pillow thrown at his direction. Heck, the arm rest was too hard for his neck and he just couldn't sleep. He was annoyed by her actions; no person in the right mind would ignore his invitation just because her senior was home for a fortnight. And he was even more annoyed when she hung up and did not answer his call.

Finally fed up he jumped off the couch and sauntered to her bed, she lay unconcerned. Forehead furrowed as she dreamt. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to push her away.

"Move." He ordered, Mikan groaned in her sleep and swatted his hand away. "Move I said," he snapped. Mikan growled at him and moved a bit. He settled beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. God he missed her smell and her petite body. He missed sleeping next to her and waking up with her arm thrown around his waist or back. He buried his face into her hair and murmured her name. If he could just…

He was jolted awake when a push nearly choked the life out of him, "What the hell—"

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

"God!" he groaned, massaging his back, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You! You in my bed!"

"I need a decent sleep and a bed is required for that." He growled, "Must you be this noisy in the morning?"

"I wouldn't be _this_ noisy if you didn't—"she kicked him, "stay," another kick, "in," kick, "my," kick, "bed!"

Natsume grabbed hold of her foot and yanked her towards him. Mikan screamed at him, and landed on her back. She growled and pushed herself up to hit him, "you crazy idiot."

"We aren't done talking. Let's finish what we started last night."

Mikan rolled her eyes and shoved him away, "I'd rather not."

"I'd rather do." He snapped, we aren't done and we would talk right now. About your gift—"

"Sorry if it was lame, but that was all I could offer, now it if wasn't up to your standards, I suggest you move on and just accept the fact that that was all I could offer."

"Well, it wasn't up to my standards. And you'd have to compensate." He nodded gravely at her and she cleared her throat.

"Well, I don't have enough to—"

"Why don't you just give me yourself then?" he questioned. Mikan's eyes widened and a blush appeared on her cheeks, she composed herself before lashing out, "you bloody pervert!" she whacked him on the arm and moved away from him, "don't come near me—" she yelped when her hand failed to hold onto the mattress instead grabbing air, Natsume was immediate in his reflex: he pulled her other arm and yanked her towards his body. She was quite pleased that he saved her but she felt terrified of their proximity, she squirmed away from him but he held his grip.

"Really, do let me go this instant Natsume, you aren't funny anymore."

"I am not trying to be funny, consider offering yourself up to me as a ten year worth of gifts." He blew on her neck and she felt a chill down her spine. A gasp escaped her lips when his tongue darted out to taste her skin, "God—why do you taste so—" he nibbled on her skin and she threw her head back. "Good," he peppered open mouthed kisses along her jaw towards her parted lips. Mikan shrieked at him and moved her head away.

"Stop it you idiot! Stop!" she pushed his shoulders away but he took her other wrist and held them together in between their bodies, "Natsume don't be a fucking jerk and let me go this instant!"

"No," he growled, he pushed her down and captured her lips in a chaste kiss, it was fast and soft, it barely felt like anything. He groaned against her and ran his hands along her side. He kissed her again, just like the first one only longer. Probably a second longer. Mikan moved her head away again, "keep still." He held her face and kissed her once more, tongue darting out to taste her lips, she did not yield, and she squirmed and tried to get away. His next kiss landed on the side of her mouth. Deciding she wouldn't yield, he continued his trail of kisses down her throat.

His lips were going lower, lower—

"Stop," Mikan wriggled, "stop it you idiot! Natsume!" she whined, "Natsume," she breathed on top of his head, "Stop… goddammit!" he paused and whispered on her skin, "kiss me first."

She shut her eyes, either way he wins, the goddamned… a suck on her chest broke her from her trance, "Fine! Fine!" Natsume grinned at her, "fine. Just a kiss."

"I want a make-out session."

"You are no longer a teenager! Shut—"

"Then we'll resort to sex," Mikan yelped when his hand squeezed her thigh, "since we're both adults…"

"No, you—" his lips landed on her own as they tumbled down on the mattress, his warm hands cupping her face in the process. Mikan sighed against his mouth as her hand timidly reached for his nape, bringing him even closer to her. It was a slow and sensual kiss, unlike how she imagined the way he'd kiss other women. It was too gentle for his liking, too sweet and chaste. She felt him shift and she turned to accommodate him. His body felt warm against her skin. She felt his arm slither around her waist, pulling her even closer. She responded back by pressing up against him, moaning and sighing against his warm and soft lips.

It took several moments before they broke apart with lazy smiles on their faces. She laughed to herself as she felt his hand stroke her back in a gentle way. "Why are you laughing?" he murmured against her hair.

"Nothing—I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Our situation?" She said meekly, "what about it?" he asked again.

She shook her head and buried her face into his neck, his scent engulfed her olfactory sense, filling her with the scent of her own bed, his own mixed scent of citrus aftershave and cinnamon.

"I could not give you anything, I just have to warn you. As I said, I have nothing."

Natsume snorted at her statement and played with her tousled locks.

And she could not help a smile grace her face after he said,

"Idiot, how can you give me nothing, when you are my everything?"

**xxx**

**Author's note: **I am a sucker in writing a poem, but this is what Mikan wrote:

_What can you give to a man who has everything?_

What can you offer if he has a golden ring?

_What can you give if the world bows to his every whim?_

What can you give when everyone treats him like a king?

_A hand to offer help, sand for him to sleep?_

A smile to encourage, a weep for comfort?

_Distant memories for him to keep?_

What can you give to a man who has everything,

_When all you offer is nothing?_

What can you offer to a man who has everything,

_When all he thinks about you—is nothing?_

What can you give to a man who has everything?

Yeah, I like it when they kiss in bed. Forgive my fetish. I've always wanted to write a mature story about them, well, I still can't. So I'd stay with that little scene.

Review guys! See you soon! x


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